Late ✓

𝐋𝐀𝐓𝐄

Dedicated to those
who are always late

AND 

those who are always careful
not to be late

-

  𝐈  𝐂𝐇𝐄𝐂𝐊𝐄𝐃 my phone for the umpteenth time, frowning as yet another minute passes by. 

   It'd been almost fifteen minutes since Adrian said he'd arrive. I glanced around the restaurant, trying not to meet the sympathetic gaze of the silver-haired waitress who'd been looking at me pitifully for the past couple of minutes.

   You know what they say, after just that long amount of waiting, your date probably isn't going to come. And that's exactly what Madame Silver's — as I'd started to call her — expression said: Better move along, dearie. He's isn't going to arrive for this 'date'. Better luck next time.

   But really, I had nothing else to do. This nice summer evening, I'd had the day off from work. I was really glad; except the only thing I could do was relax at home. Which, after a while, starts to get a bit too boring. 

   It was then that my sister told me I could join her for our niece's birthday party; seems nice, right? 

   But nope. The perfect birthday party for my young niece was a tea party with her girl friends and relatives, with the old grannies eating tea and biscuits off to the side, gossiping about bunion surgery and their favourite Dr Oz episode. 

   And I've been to one too many a birthday 'party' as such, and really, I didn't want to be glared at by the old ladies because I was too big for the dainty kiddie chairs, again. 

   So instead, I'd opted for a date today, from this dating app I'd installed. Adrian had seemed so charming, funny, and kind, and he was super handsome, so I thought that it would be nice to chat with him and see what he really was like. Waiting for him would be worth it, is what I'd decided. And who knows why he was late, maybe he'd had a small problem on the way. 

   But on the other hand, how long does one wait? He shouldn't be making a girl wait like this . . . maybe I shouldn't have swiped right on him?  . . . Nah, I decided I'd just see what happens in a couple of minutes.

   I noticed another girl at another table close to mine, glancing at her phone so often. The blonde was impatiently tapping her foot, often opening her phone camera to make sure her hair was okay.

   She's probably here for a date too, I thought. And the guy is most definitely late.

   I got up and I walked to the washroom, glancing at at myself in the mirror once inside. I washed my face a bit and reapplied my lip gloss and eyeliner. "What's with guys making their date wait?" I grumbled under my breath as I walked back to my table. 

   Just then, I noticed that the blond girl from before wasn't alone. As I sat down on the plush seat of the vintage-style chair at my table, I realized that the guy with the girl was probably her date. Lucky her, I thought with a dull face. Where was my date at?

   I ordered a glass of water (just for the sake of Madame Silvers, who'd been sending me sympathetic glances, all while thinking that I was just taking up a seat for no reason, I bet), and glanced down at my phone.

   That's it, I decided, only a couple more minutes and I'm done.  I'll just go watch some rom-com at home to make myself feel better.  I sighed.